


never had a prayer to swallow (i'll be coming home tomorrow)

by generalsheepexpert



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort after nightmares, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Episode Prompto Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, have fun this was supposed to be fluff but then Sad, its tagged for the ot4 but its really subtle, my friend couldn't make up her mind on which one she wanted so i gave her both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsheepexpert/pseuds/generalsheepexpert
Summary: Five times nightmares plagued the boys (and the aftermath).Plus one time the nightmares didn't bother them.





	never had a prayer to swallow (i'll be coming home tomorrow)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DirtyRottenRaskel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyRottenRaskel/gifts).



> title from The Staves' song "Tired As Fuck"  
> the song itself is not really fitting for this fic but I like that line and titles are hard  
> anyway check it out it's a really good song
> 
> this has not been beta read pls excuse all tense changes and typos. 
> 
> writing is hard lol

**1.**

 

Flashes. Noctis looks up at the looming figure. He looks to his mother, and then his father. He looks up to the men and women fighting and falling and not moving anymore all because of this, this thing, that started attacking them.

 

Noctis has never felt so small, so insignificant and unworthy of his title, even though he can not really comprehend anything happening anyway, in his entire life, short though it may be at this point -- a mere eight years or so. 

 

Eventually, the fighting stops, his father is holding him close, but his mother is nowhere to be seen, and Noctis has never experienced someone crying into his hair before, though he realizes it’s similar to that one day when he was five and his father had come bursting into his room and not let go for a good twenty minutes. He had been scared then. He was terrified now. 

 

Something was wrong. Something had happened and it had been terrible, whatever it was. 

 

He looks to his father, but does not see his father’s face any longer, but a longer, more gaunt version, the eyes a deep black, the hair spindly and ashy and falling out and then his mouth opened and there were fangs and Noctis could not escape the multiple arms that held a tight grip on him.

 

A small figure lurched up in his bed. He was older now, but just barely. Sweat dripping down his forehead, and breaths coming with great effort, a young Noctis Lucis Caelum clambered out of his bed. Taking small steps at a time, and leaning heavily on the various furniture in his room, he made his way to the door. The guard standing outside his door leaned down and smiled at him.

 

“Your highness! What do you need?” the guard asked.

 

Noctis watched the braids intermingled in the man’s hair sway for a second before, “Ignis. Can you, um. Can you get Ignis?” he asked quietly.

 

“You betcha, sir,” the man turned away for a second and murmured quietly into his earpiece. The Glaive turned back to Noct and quickly reassured the small boy, “He’ll be here in a second. You want help getting back in bed?”

 

Noctis started to shake his head before pausing. His head fell for a second before he nodded, just once. The glaive patted his shoulder before he carefully picked the prince up and carried him back to his bed. Once he had been situated comfortably, the Glaive nodded once at Noctis before reassuring Ignis’s soon appearance. He retreated back to his spot right outside the door, closing the door as he went. Noctis had a difficult time managing not to ask to leave the door open. 

 

Noctis stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, his mind filled to the brim with images of his father and that thing, the. The marilith? Whatever it was that had taken his mother. A few tears began to make their way down Noctis’s small face.

 

Two sharp knocks broke the crushing silence, and then the door slowly opened, and Ignis’s head peaked it’s way through the doorway. It was hard to make out in the dark, but Noctis could have sworn he wasn’t wearing any glasses, and that was definitely a regular sleep shirt that Ignis was wearing, and wow, he had really rushed down here, hadn’t he? 

 

If Noctis hadn’t been feeling so terrible, his heart might have warmed at the thought.

 

“Highness? Are you alright?” Ignis’s voice floated through the room, the mere presence managing to dispel the darkness in Noctis’s mind, at least for the moment.

 

Noctis sniffled.

 

Ignis quickly shut the door behind him and made his way over to the bed, “Highness?”

 

“I, um, I had a bad dream I’nis,” Noctis muttered. 

 

Ignis’s  gaze softened, and he hesitated only a moment before clambering into the bed next to his charge, “Would you like to talk about it?” 

 

Noctis shook his head, but still said, haltingly, “It was, the um. The attack. My dad, he, uh.” The tears returned and Noctis solemnly stopped talking. 

 

Ignis draped his arm over Noctis’s shoulders, pausing only slightly to make sure the smaller boy was okay with it, before rubbing his shoulder. “That’s quite alright, you needn’t share if you don’t want to, Highness.”

“Noctis.”   
  
“Sorry?” Ignis looked down at the head of raven hair that had turned to mash itself into his shoulder. 

 

“Jus’ call me Noctis. I don’t wanna be ‘highness’ right now.” 

 

“I… okay high- Noctis. Okay.” Ignis brought his other arm around Noctis’s shoulders, and scooted them both down into a more comfortable position. For the rest of the night, Ignis stayed like that, with his arms shielding Noctis, and with Noctis leaning heavily on Ignis’s side. 

 

By the time the first rays of sunlight hit the window in the room, both boys had fallen asleep, and Ignis’s arm would be quite numb by the time he would wake up, but he wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to care much. 

 

The Glaive never mentioned the impromptu sleepover to anyone, but damn if he didn’t save the mental image of the prince and his advisor deep in sleep, peaceful and content, until his last days.

 

**2.**

 

Prompto wished he never agreed to this stupid sleepover. 

 

Of course Noct didn’t agree to Prompto just sleeping on the couch, because, in his words, while it was a prime napping spot, it definitely didn’t do any good for one’s neck, or back, or shoulders, or, well, anything at all. And by default, Prompto could just take Noct’s bed and he would take the couch. 

 

But Prompto must be some sort of fucking genius, because then he relayed Noct’s exact words back to him, with an added that a Noct without sleep is comparable to an insomniac after a fucking month of no sleep and, c’mon Noct I’m not gonna let you take the couch in your own stupidly nice apartment. 

 

Which then ended up with them in this predicament: Prompto laying, what it seemed like at least, half off the bed, while Noct slept comfortably on his side of the bed for the night. Prompto tried relaxing. He counted cactuars, and then counted down from one hundred, and then he counted the seconds until Noct’s alarm would inevitably go off, and then he counted cactuars again, just for good measure. 

 

He finally gave up and just resorted to staring at the ceiling. He really wished he could just fall asleep, but he was hyper aware of every movement Noct made in his own, nice, peaceful, deep sleep, and dammit Noct what the hell how can he just sleep anywhere what the fuck.

 

His eyes had been closed for a good minute or two, and Prompto would swear to Shiva that he was actually about a minute away from just. Sleeping, when he felt a heavy weight lay itself across his stomach.

 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. 

 

Okay he could deal with this. He would not let his crippling self esteem about his body, his stomach in particular, (Noct, why) get the best of him. 

 

He could totally just relax. 

 

Prompto tried to relax. 

 

It took him about a good minute to realize that he was more worried about his stomach than the fact that his best friend was literally cuddling him, but he couldn’t really hold it against him because sleeping was always nicer with something to hug, right?

 

Anyway, Prompto took in as deep a breath as he possibly could without it being obvious to someone asleep right next to him that he was taking a deep breath, before taking a couple more.

 

Noct nestled his face into Prompto’s shoulder-neck area and Prompto almost started crying, just right there. 

 

He took a couple more deep breaths.

 

Eventually, Prompto began to relax. Noct hadn’t moved anymore and, honestly? This was pretty nice, aside from the fact that Prompto now felt like he couldn’t move without waking up Noct. 

 

Prompto’s eyes closed.

 

His eyes opened and he was staring out at a white landscape, mountainous and chilling, in more ways than one. Something bad was going to happen here, Prompto just knew but he didn’t know what to do about. 

 

He started running. 

 

There were a few false starts, he tripped a few times, each time terrified that he would fall and start an avalanche and then die or something, but it never actually happened. 

 

The landscape stretched on and on and on and Prompto was beginning to feel like he would never get out of here, wherever here was.

 

There was a voice shouting something behind him, but he couldn’t make it out. His own breaths blocked out any noise aside from his own heartbeat and racing thoughts. 

 

Slowly, he realized the voice didn’t sound angry, just concerned. And sleepy.

 

“Prom. Prom, c’mon buddy, you’re okay. Next to the Citadel you are in the safest building in Insomnia. All of Lucis, probably,” Noct’s tired, insistent voice broke through Prompto’s own thoughts, and the never ending snow disappeared in the blink of an eye.

 

Blearily opening his eyes, Prompto blinked up at Noct, “Wha-?”   
  


“Bad dream?” Noct asked quietly.

 

“I guess? I can’t remember,” Prom rubbed his eyes before starting to sit up.

 

Noct pushed Prompto’s shoulder back down, “Dude, it’s four in the morning. Go back to sleep, there’s still another like, two hours, before the alarm is gonna go off and you can go run or whatever it is crazy people do at six in the morning. Okay?”

 

Prompto blinked at him twice, before nodding slowly and laying back down slowly. He wrapped an arm around Noct and pulled him back down, too, before burying his head in Noct’s chest. Noct made a small sound of surprise before relaxing and closing his eyes. 

He kept a hand on the small of Prompto’s neck.

 

When the alarm went off in the morning, Prompto mumbled something about it being the weekend and taking breaks before turning off the alarm and falling back asleep once again.

 

**3.**

 

Gladio watched, helpless, as Noct sailed through the air, hitting the ground with a hard thud. Blood began pooling around his broken body, yet Gladio could not force his eyes away from the kid. Slowly, he turned away. He stubbornly ignored the tears running down his face.

 

Blink. 

 

Gladio saw a different situation. Multiple bodies littered the floor, and the air rang thick with the smell of iron. He knew, instinctively, that Noct was behind him, pushing him, but it was impossible to tell from what. He turned around and saw an older version of Noct.

 

This Noct had scars littering his face, a bedraggled beard, his hair was longer, tangled and greasy. His face was gaunt. When he spoke, it was in a raspy voice, thick from disuse, quiet from strain.

 

“Why did you fucking leave? I needed you to protect me. Why? Why, Gladio?”   
  


Gladio saw the tip of a sword through his abdomen, and he saw Noct’s eyes watch the sword emotionless, before he felt any pain.

 

By the time he crumpled to the floor, he had woken up.

 

His bed was a mess, most of his sheets in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed. He was covered in sweat, despite the cool air coming in from the window he had opened earlier in the day. He looked at the clock next to his bed, a harsh red light emitting the numbers 2:37. 

 

Gladio groaned, “Fuck.”

 

He blindly scrambled for his phone charging on the nightstand. The bright glare of his phone blinded him for just a moment, before he slowly opened up his messages. Knowing Ignis would still be awake, working probably -- and damn, did that guy need to learn when to take a break -- he slowly typed in a few words: “be over soon.”

 

By the time he got to Ignis’s place, the door had been unlocked and a small cup of herbal tea had been brewed for Gladio. Ignis sat at his desk, hair down, and in a simple white shirt and pajama pants. He still wore his glasses, and the pinched look from the paperwork did not disappear as he glanced up at Gladio. 

 

“Difficult night?” he asked.

 

Gladio sat down next to him, hands curled around the mug for comfort, and shrugged, “Something like that.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ignis stared at him, and Gladio was uncomfortable with the amount of knowing that was hidden behind the emerald eyes. 

 

Gladio clutched a little harder at the mug, “How do you just… do it?”   
  


Ignis’s lips turned up into a small smirk, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that. I do quite a lot.”   
  
Gladio huffed, “No, yeah. Exactly that. How do you just, throw your life into only working? How do you throw your life into everything about Noct? Don’t you ever want to go out and, I dunno, live a little?”

 

“I’m quite afraid it’s practically all I’ve ever known,” Ignis sighed for a moment. He put down his pen, and fully turned to face Gladio. “Are you… having doubts about your duty?”

 

“No! No. Nothing like that. Well kind of like that but not how you worded it exactly, more like doubting my ability to fulfill my duty. You know? I don’t… I don’t wanna die, and damn I love Noct but throwing myself in front of a blade for him is just. It’s a lot,” He knew that last bit wasn’t true, but that didn’t mean the thought didn’t terrify him any less. 

 

Gladio took a sip of the tea. It was at the perfect temperature, and just how Gladio liked it: strong and bitter. 

 

Gods above, when he wasn’t in the middle of having a breakdown because of crippling self doubt and what the future holds, he’d have to thank Iggy for being such a good friend.

 

Ignis paused for a second, gathering his thoughts. He looked Gladio dead in the eyes as he spoke: “It’s less throwing yourself in front of a blade, Gladio, and more preventing the swing in the first place, I think.”   
  


“Yeah but, what about when I can’t prevent it? When it’s just too much for one shield to handle?” Gladio breathed heavily through his nose. He knew he has to be strong, and deep down, he knows that he would, without a doubt, throw himself in front of a moving train if it would keep Noct safe.

 

That’s the real thing that scared him.

 

Ignis smiled at him, a rare, unguarded smile and the sincerity of it caught Gladio off guard: “Well, I imagine that’s where the rest of us come in. Myself, Noct, even Prompto, once he finishes his training with Cor. Getting hurt to protect the prince is all apart of the job I’m afraid.”

 

“No, I know,” Gladio sighed again. When he spoke next his voice had dropped lower, “I know that, without a doubt I would die for Noct if I had to. I just don’t want to die without living, you know? Noct gets his apartment and he got to go to high school and make a friend. We can’t; never even got that option.”

 

“Go to the arcade with Noct, then, not just as a guard but as a friend. Go to the movies, or a restaurant. Your time spent with Noct does not necessarily have to be regarded as just work. Our lives do revolve around him, yes, but that does not mean we do not get the option to live,” Ignis turned to face his papers. He organized them back into their respective files, “Perhaps I ought to get some rest. You should try too, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like. Insomnia is not very pleasant at three in the morning.”

 

Ignis stood up and pushed Gladio into his bedroom, “Are you comfortable sharing? I’m not going to force you to sleep on that couch, but also,” he paused, smiling slightly. “I am not sleeping on that couch. It’s terribly uncomfortable...” he trailed off, and Gladio huffed a small laugh before nodding.

 

He clambered into the bed next to Ignis. When he finally closed his eyes, listening to the soft breaths of the man beside him, he dreamed of an open road and the laughter of all his friends filled his heart.

 

**4.**

 

Ignis woke quickly, but did not move. He registered the movement next to him in the tent, and originally believed it to be coming from Prompto, as he tended to thrash about in his sleep. 

 

That is, until he sat up.

 

He locked eyes with Prompto across the tent, eyebrows furrowed and biting his lip. Behind him, Gladio stared down at their last member of the group.

 

Noct was curled into a small ball, a sleeping position Ignis had not seen the young man take since the daemon attack that had forever altered Noct’s life. Sweat made his hair cling to his forehead and tears seemed to be making a slow trail down his cheeks as well. His eyes moved frantically behind his eyelids, and his arms would occasionally spasm, as if he was reaching out towards something.

 

“Dad? Dad… Dad, no,” Noctis whimpered. The quiet noises created a deafening silence in the tent. 

 

Ignis looked back up at Prompto  and Gladio, and each one of them refused to mention the tears in the others’ eyes. 

 

Ignis looked back down at his charge, “Waking him from a nightmare might just make it worse.”

 

In shock, Prompto harshly whispered, “We can’t just leave him!”

 

“We won’t. We’re gonna be right here the whole time, we just… we just gotta remind him of that,” Gladio said quietly, resting a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. 

 

Prompto’s shoulders slumped, “How are we supposed to do that?”

 

Ignis settled back down, this time laying close to Noct, and started whispering quiet words of gentle and empty reassurances. Prompto grabbed Noct’s small Carbuncle charm and placed it next to his friend’s head before laying back down as well. 

 

The next morning, once everyone had woken up and eaten breakfast, Gladio was the first one to suggest they head down to Galdin Quay for a little while, and take a small break.

 

“We’ve been going pretty non-stop lately. I think it would do us all some good to get some sunshine,” he reasoned. 

Prompto agreed without a second thought, and Ignis followed only a few seconds later.

 

Noct raised his eyebrows at Ignis’s clear acceptance of such a big distraction, “I mean, yeah, sure. If you guys are sure? ...Ignis?”

 

“We can afford it easily enough. I must say, a break would be nice, I might ask to pick Coctura’s brains of her recipes,” Ignis smiled easily at Noct.

 

“Uh, wow. Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then,” Noct smiled and then rushed into the car.

 

Behind the prince’s back, Prompto and Gladio fist bumped quietly, and Ignis hid his smile behind a quick push of his glasses. 

 

**5.**

 

Pain.

 

It started at his hand and worked its way up his arm and then his shoulder, and then neck before gathering at his eye.

 

Similar to a paper being burned at the edges, Ignis’s vision slowly burned away, a blinding purple replacing the scene before him. Laying on the ground, and facing Noct’s unconscious form, Ignis screamed in pure agony at the feeling ripping through his very existence at that moment.

 

Ignis jolted upright, his good eye shooting open uselessly as he scrambled around the bed, hands coming up with nothing but sheets and empty air.

 

“Woah! Woah! Iggy, Iggy, c’mon, you’re safe, you’re okay,” Prompto rested his hand on Ignis’s shoulder. Ignis clutched at the contact, before pulling Prompto into a tight hug. “Wo-oh-kay, buddy. You’re okay. You’re safe. We’re in Lestallum, you know, the apartment we managed to snag after everything went to shit. We’re safe here, no one’s getting in this fucking building without me or Gladio knowing, okay? You’re in your room, the window is barely open, but just slightly, focus on the small breeze. Okay? Okay.” Prompto held Ignis through his panic attack, rambling quietly into Ignis’s ear about anything and everything he could think of. 

 

There was a brief silence, before Prompto began speaking again, quieter this time: “You know, back in Gralea,” Ignis stiffened, not expecting this admission. “I wasn't stuck in Zegnautus at first. I actually got around a bit of the countryside, and was running around with Aranea, beating the shit out of some Nif bases. It was pretty badass, honestly. I saved this little garula from a bunch of sabertucks? Little dude just ran away. It wasn’t until after me and Aranea… split paths that Ardyn trapped me in Zegnautus. My, uh, my snowmobile broke down, and I was wandering in the snow for a few days, I think, and the MTs caught up with me. By the time you found me, I’d only been in the cell for a day or so.”

 

“And all the cuts?” Ignis couldn't stop himself.

 

Prompto rubbed the back of his neck, “Ah, uh. Those were all him. Asshole’s a fast worker.” Ignis squeezed Prompto tightly. 

 

“It was Ardyn,” Ignis’s words were quiet, and his voice was raspy, but Prompto heard it and fell silent immediately anyway. He held Ignis tighter. 

 

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

 

“He was…. He was threatening to stab Noct. On the altar after Leviathan,” Ignis paused for a long moment, focusing on Prompto’s steady breaths and the slight breeze coming in through the window. “I had to stop him, so I… I put on the ring.”   
  
Prompto inhaled quickly in shock, before asking, “Is that…?” 

 

Ignis nodded.

 

“Shit.”

 

Ignis smiled, humorless, “Indeed.”

 

Prompto rested his head on Ignis’s shoulder, before huffing a dry laugh. “Ardyn’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?” 

 

“That he is,” Ignis exhaled heavily.

 

Ignis and Prompto sat quietly for a few more minutes, before Prompto declared them both in dire need of some classic hot chocolate. 

 

“You think Gladio would be willing to make some if we woke him up? We could say that we’re both in need of some good ol’ therapy cocoa,” Prompto questioned.

 

Ignis smiled, “I’m sure we could figure it out without him.”

 

“Well, yeah. We definitely could, buuuuuuut. We don’t have to. I’m gonna go wake him up,” Prompto stood up, before a voice from the doorway spoke up.

 

“Don’t you fuckin dare, Prom.” Ignis chuckled at Gladio’s tone, joking at being serious.

 

“Aw, but c’mon man. Midnight cocoa is the best type of cocoa,” Prompto whined. He grabbed Ignis by the arm and dragged him up. “Iggy agrees. Right, Iggy?”   
  
Ignis looked between the two, a supposedly unnerving habit from a blind man, sure, but it was fun to freak those two out occasionally, “I certainly wouldn’t say no, but if he chooses to go sleep like a sane man, I would understand.”

 

Gladio laughed, “Since when have any of us been sane?” 

 

Prompto huffed out a laugh at that, “A valid point, Big Guy. Valid point.”

 

“Alright, I guess I’ll do it,” Gladio sighed, and started making his way to their small cramped kitchen. 

 

Prompto pumped his fist into the air, “Yes!” He jumped up and ran after Gladio.

 

Ignis, smiling, shook his head and slowly followed his two friends.  
  


**1+**

 

We set our final scene in a setting similar and yet so completely different to anything and everything the four men have known before.

 

It’s a cold night, similar to the climate of the last few years.

 

The haven is hard underneath their backs, and only a few blankets, sleeping bags, and the tent save their older backs from complete devastation in the morning. 

 

The last time any of them shared a night with the others like this, it had been in a world completely different to the one they live in now. A world filled with determination and hope for a better future where all four of them could win their home back.

 

Each man is different now. Shaped by the past ten years, or the lack thereof, they have different habits, different outlooks on life. Despite their relationship as family, there is no denying that each man is practically a stranger to each other now. 

 

Their leader has somehow changed the most and the least: determined in a different way, wise beyond what any simple man should be. He has lived a life far harder than any one man should have to endure, and despite his eternal bitterness towards the gods of this world, he has resigned himself to his job. Unable to change his fate now, he simply tells his brothers what must happen next, and apologizes when they ask if there must be another way. 

 

The hand has adapted to his disability, and has become stronger than ever. He is more confident, more mature, if at all possible. He knows what is coming, because of simple visions that had been forced upon him when he put on the cursed ring all those years ago. He wishes to see his best friend as he is now, with the beard, and the long hair unrestrained by gel, but knows that the best he can get is those visions. He wishes that he does not already know what his friend looks like now.

 

The shield is more independent, and yet, softer. In his time apart from the men he loves, he has found a woman that he loves just as much. After all, a shield will always find something to protect. He fights differently, not relying on magic as much anymore, not relying on much of anything at all anymore. In the ten years of darkness, no one can quite recall truly fighting and defending with this man.

 

The MT has seen the biggest change: independent, proud, and ever more reckless. He displays the tattoo marring his wrist as a badge now, daring anyone to talk badly of those from Niflheim in this time where unity is required for survival. He had closed himself off, built up his own walls, and worked purely on his physical skills. In his doing so, he opened himself up to more and more dangerous activities, as he was the only one, seemingly, suicidal enough to take the missions. He mastered the ability to laugh without joy, and smile without feeling. All are worried about him, but he will talk to no one. 

 

However, when these men set up their tent, and their bags, and after many admissions are over,  _ you guys... are the best _ , they are reverted back to their younger selves. If it weren’t for the increased number of daemons outside of the haven, and the crushing sense of responsibility that rests upon all their shoulders, one might have believed the tent housed four rowdy twenty-something year olds. 

 

When they fall asleep that night, they are still uneasy and scared. The knowledge that they would be together when they faced fate helped, and the warm bodies huddling for warmth and family lulled each man into a deep sleep. 

 

The next morning they awake, terrified and anxious, but ready for what the gods and their pawns would throw at them next. 

 

After all they were together, and standing by one another?

 

That is when they are strongest.

**Author's Note:**

> hi
> 
> i'm still not happy with the Gladio and Ignis section? It felt disjointed to me. BUT i'm tired of trying to figure out how to fix it so take my trash \o/
> 
> i messed up and put myself in the position of having to figure out what advice ignis would give but i dont know how to handle Emotions or Advice so i hope it came out as something he would say oof
> 
> this is my first work for this fandom so i hope it's okay? lol pls give me feedback i have No Idea what i'm doing
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! You're wonderful!! Have a good day!!


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